


i want you, i hope you'll come to me

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based off of To All the Boys I've Loved Before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Iwaizumi Hajime is a NERD, Kissing, LOTS of cheesy romcom tropes, M/M, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, One-Sided Relationship, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: oikawa tooru has never received a love letter, but he's written five of them





	i want you, i hope you'll come to me

**Author's Note:**

> this is hot garbage lmao god bless you for wanting to read this

Oikawa Tooru has never received a love letter.

Sure, he’s received confession letters; letters from doe eyed girls and boys, crooning over his windswept hair and pretty face, admitting the fact that they had always admired him, that he looked best when he’s on a volleyball court. He’s received countless of those, stuffed between the wedges of his locker, a little crinkled and obviously done with haste. Each one he’s smiled at, appreciated. And each one he’s rejected.

But those weren’t love letters.

They weren’t the kind that would sweep him off his feet; the kind that would knock him breathless and leave him starry-eyed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark constellation stickers on his bedroom ceiling, wondering if this is what it was like to be amongst the stars.

Love letters are a special, integral part to being in love, and Tooru has never received one.

But written one?

Tooru’s written a love letter. He’s written five, to be exact. Five love letters; five boys that Tooru has been in love with. Five love letters, tucked neatly away in a small shoebox, decorated with Gundam stickers that he had won at an arcade when he was six. Five love letters that would never see the light of day; five letters that are for Tooru’s eyes only, for when he’s feeling nostalgic and pitiful, mooning over boys who would never love him back.

Tooru smooths his thumb over the most recent letter, heart clenching painfully as he looks at the smooth scrawl of his handwriting, the letters slightly smudged from when the ink wasn’t quite dry as he was writing it. He’s truly quite pathetic, isn’t he; falling in love with a boy who won’t even bother to look his way.

☆☆☆

First, there was Kazue.

Kazue was Tooru’s first love—the one who had started it all. He was beautiful; dark ebony hair and sparkling grey-black eyes that shone whenever he laughed at a stupid joke Tooru made. He had dimples that concaved into his cheeks when he smiled, and at that time, Tooru so desperately wanted to know what it was like to kiss another boy. He was also a high schooler, while Tooru was a middle schooler. So, obviously, nothing was going to happen there. But, Tooru could always dream.

Kazue was Tooru’s neighbor from a few houses down and his math tutor of two years, and Tooru was so sure that he was  _the one_ …

At least, he was the one up until Kazue’s family moved from Miyagi to Nara, and Tooru never saw him again.

So Tooru, in all of his pent-up middle school frustrations, wrote a letter. A letter for a boy who had captured his heart and then threw it all the way across the country.

After Kazue, there was Issei.

While Kazue was gentle and kind to Tooru, Issei was a wild spirt, knocking Tooru completely sideways. He was sardonic and blunt, and he didn’t take any shit from Tooru, constantly teasing him and ruffling his hair when Tooru made him laugh. He was also Tooru’s first real boyfriend.

For, like, a week. Maybe less.

It was his first year of high school, and Tooru had been at his first proper teenage party. It was kind of lame, and Tooru wasn’t particularly interested in drinking, so he had a solo cup full of apple juice, mixed with lemon soda. He was standing in the corner, watching other people mingle and drink like it was the end of the world.

What was he even doing there, again?

Eventually, Tooru had become bored of his mindless people watching, and decided to explore the house. He didn’t want to leave yet; he had only been there for about an hour, and he really didn’t know how early was “too early” when deciding to leave a party. He went down a small hallway and peeked into a room, where there was a group of people in a circle, an empty glass bottle in the center of them.

Tooru was about to continue on, when one of the boys in the group looked up, meeting Tooru’s gaze. His eyes were droopy and lidded, making him seem like he was bored or tired, but Tooru could see an almost hidden mischievous glint within them that immediately piqued his interest. Tooru recognized him as one of the new first year members of the volleyball team, but he really couldn’t put a name to a face.

“You wanna join?”

Tooru opened his mouth, then closed it, like he was a fish out of water. “Um.” It was clear that they were playing some sort of lame rendition of spin-the-bottle, and Tooru had never been kissed by another non-family member before. He wasn’t particularly interested, but something about the boy made him  _want_ to join.

The boy’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “C’mon. What are you afraid of?” He tilted his head back in invitation, and scooted to his right, making a distinct space for Tooru to sit down.

It was an opening, so Tooru took it.

He sat down next to the boy who very nearly dragged him in just from one glance, and attempted to avoid eye contact, lest he lose his bearings once more. He heard a small chuckle come from his right and he pointedly did  _not_ look at the boy next to him.

He jumped when he felt soft, unruly hair tickle the side of his face. He just barely turned his head, when the boy spoke softly into his ear. “I really hate things like this.”

Tooru huffed out a snort. “If you hate it so much, why did you invite me to join?”

“Misery loves company?”

Tooru snorted again.

“Or. Maybe I thought you were cute and was hoping that when I spun the bottle, it would land on you.”

It was cheesy.  _So_ undeniably cheesy that Tooru muffled a giggle into his hand. “That was so lame.” He finally turned to look at the boy, and wasn’t disappointed when he saw him smirking, his lips tilting up in a teasing way. He was cute, in a rough sort of way.

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” He nodded to Tooru. “Matsukawa Issei. That’s me. My name, I mean.”

Tooru smiled and titled his head sweetly to the side. “Oikawa Tooru. That’s me. That’s my name. Oikawa Tooru.”

Neither of them got to kiss each other, but they exchanged numbers, and the rest was history. At least, until Issei admitted that  _maybe_  they had rushed into things and that, yeah, while Tooru was cute, Issei couldn’t really see him as much more than a friend. So, they broke things off without even having been on a single date or having kissed each other.

Tooru still wrote him a letter, though. Because, well, first boyfriends are special. And Issei is still one of his best friends, even if the memory of their past relationship still comes back to haunt them at times.

A month after Issei, there was Tetsurou.

Tetsurou was on a rival volleyball team from Tokyo. He was a promising up-and-coming middle blocker with even more unruly hair than Issei, and a smirk that could cut through Tooru’s cheery façade in mere seconds. They had met during a practice match, and when Tetsurou had first introduced himself, meeting Tooru’s gaze head-on, Tooru knew he was in trouble.

They had a friendly rivalry, and Tooru enjoyed the snark that Tetsurou would send his way whenever Tooru was being a brat. It was refreshing; it was a different sort of relationship than Issei, but still one that made Tooru laugh and cause him to go weak in the knees. It was the thrill of being on opposite sides, of having an actual rival. It made Tooru crave more.  

His crush lasted up until a practice game a few months later, when Tetsurou brought along a boy who spent the entire time looking at his phone.

In that moment, it was like Tooru didn’t even exist; Tooru would look at Tetsurou, but Tetsurou’s eyes were never on him.

Tooru didn’t even stand a chance.

Letter number three was added to the shoebox later on that day.

After Tetsurou, there was Iwaizumi Hajime.

Hajime was on the baseball team and was known around the school for being absolutely  _shredded_. He excelled in everything sports-related, from judo to basketball to track… He was even known as the unbeatable arm-wrestling champion by his peers.

Tooru was a little bit in love, maybe.

It was a soft, shy kind of love, though. One that he wouldn’t have dare tread into, in fear of complete and utter humiliation. He could just see the disgust on Hajime’s face if Tooru ever came forward with a confession. It would be brutal. Completely and utterly brutal.

In his heart, though, he knew Hajime wasn’t one to spit in someone’s face like that. He was kind. Much, much too kind. But Tooru’s ugly thoughts invaded his brain, causing him to shut himself away from Iwaizumi Hajime, not getting past the introduction stage whenever they were sat next to each other in class at the beginning of their second year of high school.

There was one time, though, when Hajime had asked Tooru to pick up a pencil he had dropped. Tooru thought about the moment when their fingers brushed up against each other all day; it clouded his mind so vividly, that not even Issei stealing some of his tofu during lunch was able to deter his elated mood.

But, Tooru was smart enough to know that his puppy love was not going to go anywhere. So, he shielded up his heart, wrote a letter, and pretended like Iwaizumi Hajime was just another faceless boy in his class.

Tooru’s final and most recent love comes in the form of one Ushijima Wakatoshi.

This crush is akin to a pimple; it is unwanted and disgusting and all Tooru wants to do was claw his  _face_ off for even  _considering_ dating Ushijima.

But his heart—his stupid,  _stupid_ gay heart—told him that he was shit out of luck; that he really does have a crush on Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It isn’t even a normal crush, really. It mostly stems from Tooru’s pent-up hormonal frustrations and the fact that he is not able to obtain the same sought-after pedestal that Ushijima so easily claims. Ushijima is constantly three steps ahead of Tooru; he’s a relentless, ruthless opponent. Tooru loves a challenge, and Ushijima is most definitely a challenge.

It is frustrating. So very frustrating.

Ushijima Wakatoshi goes to Shiratorizawa, and he is the embodiment of everything Tooru  _hates_ about boys. Cocky, self-absorbed, rude, unnervingly blunt… The list goes on, and Tooru wants nothing more than to go up to Ushijima’s stupid, unchanging face and just fucking kiss him. And maybe hit him.

It’s undoubtedly Tooru’s worst crush, but he still writes a letter; angrily and maybe a little bit crudely. He refuses to acknowledge this crush or  _any_ of his previous crushes, aside from writing and reading the letters. Lord knows what would happen if Ushijima somehow got a hand on his letter or even just  _knew_ how Tooru felt about him. Tooru would rather die.

But he still writes Ushijima a letter and stuffs it into his box, shoving the box under his bed where it belongs.

Another crush, done and gone.

☆☆☆

The worst day of Tooru’s life actually starts out pretty well. He wakes up early, gets ready for morning practice, and leaves with a kiss on his cheek from his mother. All in all, it’s a pretty normal day. Morning practice is good; he and Issei are perfecting their jump serves, and Tooru teases him about the pink haired boy from the track team that he’s started seeing. It’s a nice day out, too. Not too hot, not too cold. It’s the perfect start to a reasonably okay day. He’s in his third and final year of high school, he’s captain of the volleyball team, and there’s really nothing that could ruin his day.

They’re having a practice game with Shiratorizawa after school, which Tooru is somewhat dreading and somewhat looking forward to. He’s not really dreading the game per say, but more dreading the fact that he has to see Ushijima’s stupidly cute stoic face in person. He can handle it, though. He’s sealed away his crush in his love letter box, so really, there’s nothing to worry about.

That is, until Iwaizumi Hajime comes up to Tooru as he’s entering the gym.

“Hey, uh. Oikawa.”

Tooru’s not really sure what to make of Hajime coming up to him without pretense. They’ve never really talked before, and Tooru gets the inkling feeling that Hajime doesn’t like him for some unknown reason.

But with the way Hajime’s acting, it must be something serious.

“Are you alright, Iwaizumi-san?” Tooru looks behind him at Issei, who shrugs and motions toward the locker room, as if to say, ‘I’ll meet you in there later.’ Tooru nods and looks back to Hajime, who looks like he’s three seconds away from bolting away. He’s red in the face, eyebrows scrunched up cutely. He’s looking down at his shoes, in what looks like embarrassment, and Tooru’s eyes follow down his arms to a somewhat familiar envelope tucked not-so-gently in his hand. It’s baby blue and has what looks to be—

Oh.

Oh my  _fucking_ god.

“Look—I’m like, flattered, or whatever—” Hajime begins. “But, uh. I don’t. I’m not—”

“Oh my fucking  _god_!” Tooru nearly shrieks out. Hajime jumps at the sudden pitch in octave.

“Uh—Oikawa, are you okay—”

This couldn’t be happening. This really,  _really_ couldn’t be happening. This is the sort of stuff that only happens in nightmares. So, obviously, Tooru must be dreaming, right? Because there’s no way that Iwaizumi Hajime has the love letter that Tooru wrote for him, clutched in his hands. There’s no way. It’s just not possible.

Tooru staggers a little bit, and if he were paying attention, he would have noticed Hajime stutter forward, as if he were about to catch him from falling. But, as it be, Tooru is too busy trying not to pass the fuck out in front of a boy that he used to like.

Hajime opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by someone else calling out Tooru’s name.

Tooru looks up to see Ushijima walking toward them, the rest of his team behind him. He seems to be holding an envelope in his hands—

No.  _No._ Absolutely  _not_.

This couldn’t be happening. How unlucky must Tooru be? Did he do something terrible in his past life to cause such unfortunate events to befall unto him? If so, fate really has a cruel way of punishing him.

Iwaizumi Hajime knowing his crush, Tooru can deal with. But Ushijima Wakatoshi? Nope. That’s not happening. Not in a million years.

So, Tooru frantically latches onto Hajime and pulls him into a kiss.

In the back of his mind, Tooru realizes that, wow, this is his first kiss. But in the reasonable, more logical part of his mind, he realizes that he just kissed a boy in front of literally everyone he knows, and in front of his current crush. It’s not even that good of a kiss, really. It’s sloppy and closed-mouth and Hajime doesn’t even reciprocate. Tooru supposes he’s too shocked to do anything, but before he can even react, Tooru pulls back and quickly runs away.

He doesn’t turn back, not even when he hears Ushijima call his name.

☆☆☆

Tooru doesn’t greet his mother when he gets home, hurriedly toeing off his shoes and running up the stairs to his room. He slips on the last step and lands ungracefully on his face, but there are more pressing matters to worry about.

The first thing he notices is that his room is much cleaner than it usually is; no dirty clothes strewn across his floor, and all of his volleyball magazines have been laid out neatly on his desk. Tooru flings his school bag somewhere across his room and ducks under his bed where the shoebox full of letters usually resides.

Only, there’s no box under there.

Tooru almost screams.

He rushes down the stairs and nearly runs into his mother, who is holding a basket full of clean laundry.

“Ah, Tooru. You’re home early! Did they cancel practice today?”

“Mom.  _Mom._ Mother. Please tell me you did not clean my room for me.” Tooru reaches up and latches onto her shoulders. “Please, for all that is good, tell me that you didn’t.”

His mother blinks owlishly at him. “I did. Is something the matter, sweetie?”

Tooru groans and covers his face with his hands. “When you were cleaning. Did you perhaps look under my bed?”

“I did.”

Another groan. “What did you do with the shoebox that was underneath that bed, Mom?”

“Well.” His mother starts walking toward his room, treading up the stairs lightly. “There were a bunch of labeled envelopes in it, so I assumed you wanted me to mail them off. I did that probably, hmm, yesterday? Of course, there was one written for Kazue’s old address, so I didn’t send that one. I didn’t get around to actually cleaning your room until today. I also took out some clothes I knew wouldn’t fit you anymore and added them to a donation pile—”

Tooru flops onto his bed face first and muffles a scream.

“Honey? Is everything alright?”

Of course.  _Of course_. How stupid could Tooru have been? He should have hidden the box better, maybe not even  _written_ the stupid letters. Why did he even write down their addresses in the first place? What was he  _thinking_?

“Tooru?”

Tooru whines and lifts up a hand, waving it slightly. “No. No, everything is fine, Mom. Everything is just peachy. Thanks for cleaning for me.” He gives her a shaky thumbs up. “We’re fine.”

His mother tuts. “If you say so. Don’t forget to fold the laundry, unless you want your shirts to get wrinkled.” He hears her walk out and gently shut the door behind her.

Tooru stays in his position for a while, contemplating the best way to somehow move from the country and change his name.

_I’ve always wanted to visit America. America seems nice, and I’ve done pretty well in English so far. I could make it work. All I have to do is buy a plane ticket, but I’ve saved up my birthday money, so that shouldn’t be a problem, right? Yeah, everything seems to be working out, so now I won’t have to worry about stupid Iwaizumi and stupid Ushiwaka and—_

Oh  _god._

Tooru flops onto his back and hurriedly digs for his phone in his back pocket. He pulls up Issei’s contact information and shoots a frantic text.

**me: so hey you didn’t happen to get a letter in the mail that is supposedly from me right haha**

Tooru locks his phone and sets it on his chest, looking up at the ceiling. The minutes that go by as Tooru waits for Issei to respond are agonizing, and when he finally hears the chime of his text tone, he practically claws at his chest to grab his phone.

**mattsun: i mean i wasn’t gonna say anything but**

**me: oh god**

**mattsun: i didnt know you were so passionate about my ass**  
**mattsun: im flattered but as you know im in a monogamous quasi relationship with what i believe to be the man of my dreams**  
 **mattsun: but hey if you want to recreate what we once had…**

**me: please don’t**

**mattsun: :)**

Tooru locks his phone again and covers his face with his hands, making a sound akin to a dying cat. This is honestly the worst possible thing that could ever happen to him. All of his thoughts—his personal,  _embarrassing_ love-stricken thoughts—have been exposed, and all Tooru wants to do to dig a hole in the earth and crawl in, never looking back.

Tooru flops onto his stomach, presses his face into his pillow, and screams.

☆☆☆

Tooru barely gets any sleep that night, and it shows. His hair is a fluffy mess, less pristine and in-place as it usually is, and there are dark circles under his eyes from where he forgot to put on concealer. Still, he puts on a fake smile and goes through the motions of getting ready for school.

When he meets up with Issei and Takahiro at the school gate, he holds up a hand before either of them could open their slimy little snake mouths. “Don’t. Say anything.”

Issei grins. “You should know better than that, Oikawa. I am incapable of shutting the fuck up.” He follows behind Tooru as they make their way to the gym. “I told Takahiro about your passionate love letter last night. He thought it was hilarious.”

“It was quite beautiful actually,” Takahiro pipes in. “I loved the part where you waxed poetry about his  _bedroom eyes_.”

Tooru whips around and gives a scathing glare. “I did  _no_ such thing!”

“ _Au contraire_ ,” Issei drawls. “I remember it  _distinctly_. You said—and I quote—‘Mattsun, your gaze could pierce bullets through my skin, I want nothing more than to ravish you under the bleachers’—”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Tooru shrieks, quickening his pace. “Listen, I was fifteen, and you were never supposed to see that letter in the first place, okay! Now. Just! Forget you saw it. Forget!” He takes out the keys to the gym, nearly dropping them in his haste. “And  _you_!” He turns around and points at Takahiro. “Stay out of this! Go to practice!” He pauses and narrows his eyes. “Also, if you ever hurt Mattsun I’m going to personally rip out your leg hairs one by one.” He turns around and unlocks the gym. “Mattsun, come!”

“What am I, a dog?” Issei rolls his eyes and lazily grins at Takahiro. “Bye, sweetums, see you after practice.”

☆☆☆

“Why did you even write me a letter in the first place? We dated for like three days.” Issei slurps on his milk. “Like, I know I’m amazing, but that’s kind of going overboard.”

Tooru shrugs and picks at the rice in his bento box. “I did it for my first crush, so I thought I might as well do it for you. Besides.” He takes a piece of eel and stuffs it into his mouth. “You were my first boyfriend. I was sentimental. Also, we totally dated for more than three days, asshole.”

“Three-and-a-half.”

“It was  _at least_ a week!”

Issei rolls his eyes and puts a piece of his tofu in Takahiro’s box. “It was barely a relationship, anyway. All we did was hold hands in my room when my parents weren’t home. Even then, you were too embarrassed to do it half of the time.”

“It was still  _special!_ ” Tooru huffs, blushing.

Takahiro, who was watching the whole ordeal with amusement, hummed. “So, who else did you write a letter to?”

Tooru stiffened. “No way am I telling  _you two_ that.”

“Aw, come on, Oikawa. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s just us,” Issei teases, poking at Tooru’s cheek—which was rapidly getting redder by the second.

Tooru bats his hand away. “Exactly. You two are the worst possible people I could ever tell that information to. You little  _gremlins_.” He shoots them both a glare. “I wouldn’t trust you two with my sacred secrets even if we were the last people on earth.”

“Ouch. I’m wounded.” Issei places a hand on his chest. He grins sneakily. “But you know... It  _would_ be a shame if word got out that a certain  _someone_  in this immediate vicinity has bigfoot-themed adult footie pajamas.”

Takahiro, who was in the midst eating a piece of tofu, coughs and starts hacking up food while laughing.

Tooru gasps. “You  _wouldn’t_.”

Issei shrugs. “Maybe not. But you’ll never have to find out if you tell us who you wrote letters to.” He pokes Tooru’s nose. “Come on, Tooru. Give us the deets.”

Tooru groans and flops his head onto his desk. “ _Fine_. But you better not tell anyone else about this!”

Issei raises a hand up in mock-salute. “Scout’s honor, captain. Now tell us who.

Rolling his eyes, Tooru lifts up his head and looks off to the side. “Well. There was this guy in middle school. There’s you, obviously—uh. Kuroo Tetsurou—”

“Bro. You  _do_ know he’s hardcore dating his best friend, right—”

“Shut up I  _know now_!” Tooru shoves Issei’s shoulder. “Then there’s Iwaizumi Hajime—”

Takahiro starts choking again, and Issei grins widely. “Oh, so  _that’s_ why you planted one on him yesterday, huh? Good going, Tooru, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“ _You kissed him_?” Takahiro hisses out, still mid-laugh.

“I did it with good reason!” Tooru whines, covering his face. “I had to make another guy think that I didn’t like him! And Iwaizumi-san was  _right there_ , so.”

“Who was the ‘other guy’, then?”

Tooru freezes, his entire body stiffening. “It was. Um. Uh…” He mumbles out the last part, practically inaudible.

“Sorry, what was that, dear?” Issei leans in, cupping his hand over his ear. “I couldn’t quite catch that. Who does our dearest Tooru  _not_ have a crush on?”

Tooru groans and hides his face again. “Ushiwaka, okay?” he hisses. “The last letter I wrote was for Ushiwaka! And somehow, he got the letter I wrote for him and was going to confront me about it before practice, and there was  _no way_ I was going to let him think that I actually like him! So, I did what I had to, okay!”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Tooru peeks out from behind his hands.

“You mean. You have a crush. On. Ushijima Wakatoshi. Your supposed arch nemesis,” Issei deadpans.

“I—Yes? No? Ugh, it’s just so frustrating! And now I’m going to have to make sure that  _none_ of the boys I sent letter to think that I actually like them, and I’m just so frustrated. Like I could handle Mattsun and Iwaizumi-san and  _maybe_ Kuroo-chan. But  _Ushiwaka_? God, I want to fucking bury myself in a hole and never come out.”

Issei sighs. “I thought I raised you better than this, Tooru. Honestly, I’m disappointed. I can see having a crush on Iwaizumi. But  _Ushijima_? Frankly, I’m disgusted.”

“Look, I  _know_ , okay!” Tooru rubs at his temple. “I hate it just as much as you, and honestly, I’m getting over it. I just need to somehow convince Ushiwaka that I don’t have a crush on him. I can worry about everything else later.”

Takahiro gives an inquisitive hum.

“Oh shit.” Issei grins. “Hiro’s got his sexy thinking face on. What are you thinking about, babe?”

“Well,” Takahiro starts. “I’m just saying—this  _may_ work, but. I’m kind of friends with Iwaizumi, so. I could probably talk to him for you?”

Tooru frowns. “How is  _that_ going to solve any of my problems?”

“You didn’t let me finish. Listen—” Takahiro leans forward. “You kissed Iwaizumi in front of this Ushiwaka guy yesterday, right?” At Tooru’s nod, he continues. “ _So_ , why not keep up the act?”

“I’m… not following.”

“What I’m saying is… ugh. You explain, Mattsun.” Takahiro waves a hand lazily toward Issei.  

“What I think Hiro’s getting at is. You should consider asking Iwaizumi to keep up the act. Act like you guys are in a relationship. You know, at least until you can get Ushijima fully off your back.”

Takahiro snaps his fingers. “Bingo.”

Tooru blinks. Once. Twice. “That is literally such a stupid idea, I cannot even fathom how you managed to think of it.”

“Wow, okay. See if I try to help your sorry ass ever again.”

Issei rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it’s such a bad idea, actually. Iwaizumi seems to be a pretty nice guy, despite his rough exterior.

“You’re only agreeing with Makki because you’re dating him,” Tooru points accusingly.

“Maybe so.” Issei shrugs. “But I still think it’s worth a shot. I mean, the worst Iwaizumi can do is say no. He doesn’t seem like the type to spread rumors around or anything. I say go for it, man. If it gets Ushijima off your back, then why not?”

“Also have you  _seen_ Iwaizumi?” Takahiro pipes in. “The dude’s hot as fuck. Not as hot as you, though, babe,” he adds in, grabbing at Issei’s hand.

Tooru hums thoughtfully.

“Oh look, Mattsun, he’s thinking about it.”

Tooru sneers and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

Takahiro gives him a thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

☆☆☆

It isn’t hard to find Hajime; he seems like those types of guys to chill on top of the roof during lunch, and Tooru’s intuition usually never steered him wrong before. He preens a little bit when he notices Hajime sitting alone in a shaded corner of the roof, away from a group of girls who immediately start giggling when they see Tooru enter the roof. He gives them a flirtatious wink before heading over to where Hajime sits.

Hajime doesn’t notice him initially; his eyes are closed, and he has earbuds in his ears. But he cracks open a single eye lazily when he feels a shadow looming over him. “Ah,” he starts, taking out one of the earbuds. “Oikawa.”

“Iwaizumi-san,” Tooru coos sweetly.

Iwaizumi grimaces, squinting slightly as he looks up at Tooru. “Is there something I can help you with?” he asks stiffly.

“Maybe so.” Tooru hums thoughtfully. He nods to the space next to Hajime. “Do you mind?”

A sigh. “I supposed not.” Hajime scoots over a little bit, making space for Tooru to wedge himself in.

Tooru plops himself down and rests his head against the fence. “It’s so nice out here today. I wonder if it’s going to start getting colder, now that it’s October. I don’t really do well with the cold, you know. I’m a summer baby, so I’m not much of a winter person. I just hate it when my nose gets cold; a red nose is never attractive—”

“Oikawa,” Hajime interrupts blandly before Tooru can continue on his rant any further. “What is it that you need.”

“Ah. Well, yes. About yesterday—”

Hajime makes a distinct choking sound.

Tooru continues. “As you know, I kissed you yesterday. It was a mistake on my part. But due to certain circumstances, it had to happen.” He stretched out his legs. “And please disregard that letter. It was from a long time ago, and I would rather not have that ruin any potential friendship we may acquire. Ah, but I  _do_ think you may be of some help to me, you know. Granted, you don’t seem like the acting type, but I’m sure we could make it work. We wouldn’t have to do much, in terms of affection, but you know, holding hands and such is a given—”

“Oikawa,” Hajime interrupts again. “I have no fucking clue what you are talking about.”

“Ah!” Tooru puts a hand to his cheek. “I went off on a tangent, didn’t I?”

Hajime frowns. “Can you stop with that whole cutesy shit? It’s really annoying.”

Tooru blinks, startled. “What?”

“Your entire personality is fake as hell right now and it’s pissing me off. Just say what you have to say, without the pretenses.”

“Oh.” Tooru’s never really had anyone shoot him down so  _quickly_ before. How interesting. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize; just stop being annoying.”

Tooru huffs. “You certainly are rude, aren’t you Iwaizumi-san?” Hajime rolls his eyes. “Well, alright. I just.” Tooru frowns. “I need your help.”

“With what.”

Tooru explains it all; the letters, how they ended up getting out, the particular problem he has concerning Ushijima, and how  _exactly_ Hajime could help him. As he rattles on, Tooru can see the pieces clicking into place in Hajime’s brain.

“You want me.  _Me_ ,” Hajime emphasizes, pointing to himself. “You want me. To fake date  _you_. So you can convince this guy that you  _don’t_ like him, when in fact you actually  _do_.

“Um. Yes?” Tooru squeaks out uncertainly.

Hajime blinks once. Twice. Then, “HA!”

“Don’t laugh!” Tooru whines. “It’s a very delicate situation! You don’t understand how  _awful_ it is, having a crush on the absolute  _worst_ person in the world! I hate him!”

“Sounds to me like you actually  _do_ like him,” Hajime laughs.

“It’s complicated!” Tooru groans. “Just! Ugh! Will you do it?  _Please_?”

At Hajime’s silence, Tooru stands up. “Just think about it? You know Hanamaki, right? Ask him for my number whenever you have an answer.” Tooru turns to leave. “Thank you for your time, Iwaizumi-san.”

☆☆☆

A couple of days later, Tooru receives a text from an unknown number.

**xxx-xxx-xxxx: okay. i’ll do it.**

☆☆☆

“Okay, so.” Tooru brings out a notebook from his schoolbag and flips to a random page, laying it out on the table of the coffee shop. “We need to set some rules.”

Hajime sips at his water—seriously, who gets water at a coffee shop? “No kissing.”

“What! How are we supposed to make a realistic couple if I can’t even  _kiss_ you!” Tooru whines as he writes out in big script at the top of the blank page: TOORU AND IWA-CHAN’S SUPER SNEAKY RULE GUIDE. “People are never going to believe us!”

“I don’t care. No kissing. There are other ways to show affection, also.” Hajime frowns at the page. “Iwa-chan?”

Tooru grins. “Yeah! It’s cute, right?”

“I would honestly rather die than have you call me that.”

“Couples are supposed to have cute nicknames for each other! It’s all for the plan! You can give me a cute nickname too! Maybe something like Tooru-chan,” Tooru coos.

“Overruled.”

Tooru huffs. “You’re such an angry old man, Iwa-chan. No one is going to believe we’re dating if you’re constantly angry at me.”

“With the way your personality is, I’m sure people will understand.”

Tooru takes a sip of his iced coffee and frowns. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to have to change that attitude of yours, mister.  _Anyway_ ,” Tooru starts writing down on the page. “Hand holding is essential to every good relationship. You  _must_ hold my hand whenever we’re together at school.”

The rules for their fake relationship are as follows:

  * Iwa-chan and Tooru-chan must hold hands during school hours or during any public functions when they are together.
  * Iwa-chan must pick Tooru-chan up at his house so they can walk to school together.
  * Iwa-chan must eat lunch with Tooru-chan every day—no more eating on top of the roof alone like a loser!!
  * Iwa-chan must walk Tooru-chan home after their respective practices.
  * Iwa-chan must come to ALL of Tooru-chan’s volleyball games—or as many as he can even though Iwa-chan has the social life of a cave gremlin.
  * ESPECIALLY THE GAME WHERE THEY PLAY USHIWAKA!!!!!!
  * NO KISSING—rule courtesy of old-man Iwa-chan. >:(



“Does this seem good?” Tooru hands Hajime the paper.

Hajime grunts. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t let that nickname stick. If Hanamaki hears you using it, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“It’s cute, Iwa-chan! You’re just angry because you can’t think of an equally cute nickname for me!” Tooru writes his name at the bottom of the paper and hands it back. “Now sign your name, so we can make it all official and stuff!”

“I can think of a great nickname if I want to…” Hajime smirks. “Shittykawa.”

Tooru squawks. “That is  _so_ not cute! Don’t even  _think_  about calling me that!”

Hajime signs his name. “I don’t know, I think it suits you pretty well, Crappykawa,” he teases.

“Stop! I’m going to add a new rule: IWA-CHAN CAN NOT CALL TOORU-CHAN BY ANY MEAN NICKNAMES!” Tooru goes to snatch the paper from Hajime, but it’s pulled away from his reach.

“Too late, I already signed it.” Hajime folds up the paper and sticks it in his bag. “I’m going to hold onto it because I don’t trust you to not lose it or make any stupid new rules without my permission.”

“Well, how do  _I_ know that Iwa-chan won’t rip up the contract without my knowing, therefore voiding our agreement completely!”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. I already agreed to do it. I’m not going to back down from being your shitty fake boyfriend.”

Tooru huffs and leans back in his chair. “Well, alright. But you know what this means now, right?”

“What.”

Tooru grins widely. “We are officially, as of now, dating.”

☆☆☆

As per the contract, Hajime picks Tooru up at his house the next day, exactly ten minutes earlier than the allotted time. Tooru leaves the house with the daily kiss on the cheek from his mother and bounces over to where Hajime is waiting for him.

“Hello Iwa-chan,” Tooru sings. “Excited for day one of our super sneaky fake-dating scheme?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Hajime mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably. He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, looking to the side. “Are you ready to go?”

Tooru hums, looking at Hajime’s hair. It looks like it would be rough to the touch, but with the way Hajime’s hands comb through it, it actually might be softer than it looks. Tooru’s hands twitch at his side.

“Oikawa.”

“Huh?” Tooru starts. “Oh, yes! Yes, let’s go!” He holds out his hand and tries to ignore how sweaty it is.

Hajime grimaces when he locks their hands together. “Your hands are so sweaty.”

Tooru sputters. “I’m not sweaty. I just touched a fish!” He closes his eyes in instant regret.

Hajime snorts out a laugh. “Why are you so nervous? This was your idea, you know.” He doesn’t even look phased.

“I  _know_. And I’m  _not_ nervous!” Tooru starts walking, not letting go of Hajime. His hand is warm and soft, aside from a few callouses on his palm, probably from him playing baseball.

“If you say so,” Hajime hums, and tugs his hand closer, as they make their way to school.

☆☆☆

Word gets around the school that Tooru and Hajime are dating. It’s not that big of a deal, but Tooru has noticed a few girls crying near the restrooms, confession letters tucked against their chests. He does feel a little bit guilty there; he never wants to make anyone cry because of him. But what’s done is done.

Hajime abides by the contract and meets with Tooru every day for lunch. It’s the two of them, as well as Issei and Takahiro, sitting around two desks in the back of Tooru and Issei’s classroom.

“I just think it would make the whole thing even more convincing,” Takahiro drawls while stuffing some salmon in his mouth. “Besides, who doesn’t love getting a homemade bento from their significant other every once in a while?”

Issei looks at Tooru. “You’ve gotten plenty of homemade lunches before, right? Since you’re  _so_ popular amongst the ladies.”

Tooru preens. “Of course, I have! But, Makki is right, Iwa-chan! A true boyfriend would make me a homemade bento for lunch every day! One that’s filled with lots of protein and fruits! And decorated cutely! You’ve got to take care of your athletic Tooru-chan!”

Hajime grimaces. “Pass.”

“Iwaizumi just isn’t the doting wife type, then,” Takahiro muses. “Maybe  _you_ should make him a bento, Oikawa.”

“No,” Hajime deadpans at the same time Tooru beams with excitement. Hajime points a finger at Tooru. “No.”

“Aw, but Iwa-chan, how is anyone going to believe us if we don’t do cute things for each other! I mean, we can hold hands all we want, but if we don’t act the part, what’s the use of fooling everyone!”

“You make it sound so terrible,” Hajime groans.

“You should write me cute letters before class! Ones that talk about how much you love me and how beautiful I am!” Tooru scoops up a spoonful of rice and stuffs it into his mouth. “That way, I’ll never doubt your devotion to me!”

“I can barely understand you with your mouth full, idiot,” Hajime snorts. “And you have some rice stuck on the corner there.” He reaches over and brushes it off with his thumb and wipes it on the corner of the desk.

Tooru blinks in surprise, his cheeks heating up just a bit. “Oh.”

Hajime looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Wow,” Issei deadpans. “That was so gay.”

“Incredibly gay,” Takahiro chimes in.

“Keep going on like that, and no one will doubt your relationship for a second.”

Tooru grins, though it feels a bit forced. “Iwa-chan is stepping up his game, I see.”

The tips of Hajime’s ears turn a nice shade of pink. “Shut the fuck up.”

☆☆☆

Fake dating Hajime seems to come naturally. Well, their entire relationship seems to come naturally to them. The longer they stay together, the more they get to know each other, and the more it feels like they’ve known each other for years, instead of just a month.

Hajime is fun to tease. He doesn’t tend to give a strong reaction to any physical closeness—Tooru and him have held hands so many times, Tooru’s hands feel empty without another hand to hold. Hajime lets Tooru hang off of him during lunch; lets Tooru rest his head on his shoulder without complaint. But it’s the smaller things that get Hajime: like whenever Tooru compliments his cooking (Because Hajime  _did_ end up making him a bento, with plenty of protein as per Tooru’s request, as well as neatly sliced strawberries cut in the shape of hearts. Tooru had squealed with delight when he saw it, taking hundreds of pictures to post onto his Instagram for all to see.) Hajime always gets bashful and runs his fingers through his hair—Tooru has noticed that seems to be a nervous habit of his, which is  _adorable_ —and claims that  _it was no big deal, stupid. Don’t make a big deal out of it, or whatever._  But how could Tooru not, when Hajime starts making him lunch every day? It’s ridiculously charming, and Tooru only teases Hajime a  _little_ when he gives him a bento with a pink, sakura-themed furoshiki wrapped around it.

“Wow, I want Iwaizumi to make  _me_ a homemade lunch,” Takahiro whines, peering at Tooru’s lunch. “ _Iwa-chan_ , make me food.”

“Hey, no!” Tooru points a chopstick at Takahiro, his mouth filled with rice. “Iwa-chan only makes lunches for  _me_! I’m his boyfriend, not you! Get Mattsun to make you cute lunches, if you’re so desperate.” He swallows the food in his mouth and glares. “Also, I’m the only one who can call him Iwa-chan! Get your own cute nickname!” No one mentions the fact that Hajime is in fact, not actually Tooru’s boyfriend.

Tooru only relishes a  _little_ bit, when Hajime flushes a deep, angry red.

Hajime even writes the letters Tooru had asked him to write. Nearly every morning, before dropping him off at his classroom, Hajime will hand Tooru a small, ripped piece of paper before walking away. Sometimes they’ll say things like _See you after class, Crappykawa_ or  _Don’t forget to drink lots of water during practice today._ Tooru keeps every single one though, and makes a new shoebox, just for the letters Hajime writes for him.

(He claims that keeping the notes is all for the show—a loving boyfriend would obviously keep every single note his significant other gives him, right? So, it’s the best thing to do to maintain the act. That’s what he tells himself, at least.)

No one doubts that they’re together, which is good. Tooru still gets confession letters, even though it’s pretty much given that he and Hajime are in a relationship. He’s gotten quite a bit more confessions from boys since then, however. Tooru supposes now that they know Tooru is actually interested in boys, they feel like they’ve got a chance with him.

He still declines each one, though, thanking them for being so kind and flattering.  _Sorry, I’m dating Iwa-chan now, and you know how grumpy he is!_

Tooru starts to actually enjoy the morning walks that he and Hajime take together; Hajime always holds his hand, and they always talk about random things to pass the time. The more time that they spend together, the more about each other they discover.

Tooru learns that Hajime actually has his driver’s license, and sometimes will take his grandfather’s old car to go to the grocer’s whenever his grandmother isn’t feeling up to it. Tooru made Hajime pinky promise to take him to Shirahama Beach one day, since Tooru’s never been and Hajime is completely able to take him there. He also learns that Hajime’s favorite food is agedashi tofu, and Tooru teases him about needing to learn how to not eat fried food so much. He learns that Hajime is an only child, and that his parents died when he was twelve. He learns that Hajime loves catching bugs, but would never keep one in captivity for long, knowing that the bug wouldn’t last very long in his care. He learns that Hajime loves the old  _Godzilla_  movies, and oftentimes he and Tooru will get into heated debates over whether or not King Kong would better Godzilla in a fight. He learns that Hajime is unnervingly kind and passionate, always giving his all to everything he does.

After every evening practice, Hajime is always there to walk Tooru home. Tooru will talk about what the team could improve on and the different techniques he and Issei have been practicing.

“Don’t forget, Iwa-chan,” Tooru chimes during one of their walks home. They’re holding hands, and Tooru crowds a bit closer to Hajime than he normal would, since it’s getting colder out. “I have a practice match with Ushiwaka’s team coming up, and I need you to be there!”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Hajime replies. “I told coach that wouldn’t be able to make practice that day; he gave me extra laps to do, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Yay!” Tooru visibly shivers when a particularly harsh gust of wind blows their way. He hadn’t prepared for the sudden change in the weather when he was getting dressed this morning.

Hajime pauses. “Are you alright?”

Tooru waves a dismissive hand. “Just a bit cold! Nothing to worry about.” They continue walking.

A few minutes later, Hajime stops again. “Okay, no. You’re practically shaking. Here.” He starts taking off his coat.

“Hey!” Tooru starts. “No need to do that, Iwa-chan! I’m fine, really—”

“Shut up. Let me do this for you, Shittykawa.” Hajime hands Tooru his coat. “Just take it. You can give it back to me tomorrow, or whatever.”

Tooru looks down at the coat in surprise, and gently takes it. “Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he murmurs softly. He puts on the coat and is immediately filled with warmth.

“Don’t look so damn happy, it’s just a coat,” Hajime huffs.

Tooru grins. “I knew Iwa-chan was a closet romantic,” he sings.

“Fuck off, see if I do anything nice for you ever again.”

Tooru holds out his hand, and Hajime immediately takes it.

☆☆☆

One of Tooru’s faults, that he will admit, is that he is much too hard on himself. Many people have told him that, and he acknowledges it, but it’s just so hard to feel good about his abilities when there are so many better people around him. The problem with being too hard on himself, is that he tends to go overboard when practicing. The closer it gets to the practice match with Shiratorizawa, the harder Tooru works.

He stays up later, watching various matches that Shiratorizawa has been in. He analyzes the players’ moves and looks for weak points in the lineup. Most nights, he doesn’t go to bed until three or four in the morning, barely getting any sleep. But still, he gets up at his usual time and covers up his blemishes with concealer so that no one can see his faults. As well as staying up late, Tooru also spends longer in the gym after practice. He’ll work on his serves until nearly twelve at night, or until his bad knee finally gives out.

It seems like a lot for just a practice match, but Ushijima has that way of getting into Tooru’s head, making him feel like he isn’t good enough.

Hajime finds him in the gym one evening, two hours after practice had ended.

“What the hell are you doing here, Stupidkawa?”

Tooru looks over from where he’s hunched over his knees, straightening up when he notices Hajime. “Iwa-chan,” he says in between heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

“I just asked you that same question, idiot.” Hajime walks toward him. “What are you doing practicing so late?”

“Ah.” Tooru looks up at the ceiling. “I need to work on my jump serves. The game with Ushiwaka is in a little over a month, and if I’m ever going to beat him, I need to practice as much as I can.” He picks up a stray ball near him. “Otherwise, what good am I?”

Hajime doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Tooru’s about to continue practicing, when Hajime blurts out, “That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Huh?” Tooru looks over at him, bewildered.

“You’re so  _stupid_.” Hajime looks  _pissed_. “‘What good am I?’ I can’t believe you’d even fucking  _say_ something like that! You’re much more than stupid fucking volleyball, Oikawa.” He walks up to Tooru and takes the ball out of his hands. “Even  _if_ you defeated every single opponent in front of you, you’d  _still_ be more than volleyball.” His face softens. “You can’t base how good you are based on your skills as an athlete. Trust me, I understand why you’re doing this, but you’re just going to end up getting yourself hurt.”

Tooru purses his lips and looks off to the side. “Well… It’s too late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

Tooru sighs and goes over to one of the benches, plopping himself down. “A couple of months ago, I went to the doctor because my knee was acting up.” He runs a gentle hand over his right knee, where his brace sat. “Essentially, he said that if I didn’t take better care of myself, my ACL would be shot.”

“ _Shittykawa_ …”

“I know, I know!” Tooru interrupts. “It’s just… Ushiwaka has this way of getting to me. I want to be better, but how can I get there when he’s is always two steps ahead of me?”

“You  _have_ to stop comparing yourself to him. You’re not going to improve yourself if you keep insisting that you’re not good enough. Putting yourself in that mindset isn’t healthy, and it’s only going to tear you down more.” Hajime moves his hand closer to Tooru but hesitates a bit. Eventually, he gives in and sets his hand on top of Tooru’s. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are, Oikawa.”

Tooru looks down at their interlocked hands and smiles. “Yeah, I guess. If Iwa-chan says so, it must be true.”

He tries to ignore the way his heart beats a little bit faster when Hajime smiles at him.

☆☆☆

Hajime slips him another note, before sending Tooru off to class.

“Uh. Have a good day,” Hajime mutters, shuffling away to his own class down the hall.

Tooru gives him a goofy smile, waves goodbye, and immediately opens the letter while walking to his seat.

_Do your best, but not at the risk of your own health. I believe in you, Shittykawa._

Tooru clutches the crumpled piece of paper to his chest, fully aware that he’s grinning like a fool.

Issei strolls over to him and leans against his desk. “I see Iwaizumi wrote you another note. How many insults does it have this time?”

Tooru rolls his eyes and stuff the piece of paper into his pocket. “It’s none of your business, Mattsun.”

“I think it  _is_  my business.” Issei tuts. “Considering it was  _my_ boyfriend who set you and Iwaizumi together in this beautiful, weird fake-marriage thing you guys got going on.

Tooru grimaces. “Don’t make it sound weird.”

“I’m just stating it like it is.” Issei pretends to look at his fingernails. “He picks you up from school, writes you love notes, makes you lunch  _every day_ , and picks you up from afternoon practice like he’s your goddamn chauffeur. That’s the kind of domestic bliss that’s written about in those romance books that my mom reads religiously.”

“It’s just fake.” Tooru waves a dismissive hand. “All for show, you know. Iwa-chan has to do those kinds of things to make the relationship look realistic. He’s a lot better at being romantic than I initially thought he would be!”

Issei hums. “Yeah, but I wonder… when is the line drawn from it being for the sake of keeping up the act, to it being because Iwaizumi actually  _wants_  to do these things for you?”

Tooru tries to not let the hope forming in his chest grow and bigger than it already is. “What are you talking about? Iwa-chan and I’s relationship is strictly professional. He’s doing those things because they’re in the contract. Now.” Tooru shoves Issei off his desk. “Go to your seat and at least pretend like you’re a good student.”

☆☆☆

**me: if mothman were real do you think he would date me**

**iwa-chan: oikawa what the fuck**

**me: answer the question  
me: am i dateable and cute enough for mothman**

**iwa-chan: its 2 am go the fuck to sleep**

**me: iwa-chan please**  
**me: i need to know**  
**me: do i fit mothman’s standards or should i aim lower**  
**me: like bigfoot???? im not a furry but i guess he’s cute**

**iwa-chan: oh my god**

**me: would you date me iwa-chan**  
**me: like real dating**  
**me: not that i wanna real date you or anything**  
**me: but like.**  
**me: since you yourself are a cave gremlin**  
**me: you have the mental capacity to think like mothman**  
**me: so iwa-chan**  
**me: would you date me**

**iwa-chan: i’d rather stick a chopstick in my eye than date you for real shittykawa**

**me: so rude!**  
**me: but no like**  
**me: really**  
**me: would you date me???**

**iwa-chan: i think you need to go to sleep.**

**me: but IWA-CHAN**

**iwa-chan: goodnight oikawa**

**me: iwa-chan!**

**iwa-chan: GOODNIGHT**

☆☆☆

“Ah, I forgot to ask,” Tooru starts one day during their walk back home. “But, Iwa-chan, what even  _is_ your sexuality?”

He expects Hajime to blush, or even yell at him for asking such an invasive question, but Hajime just shrugs. “I’ve never really put a label on it, but if I had to, I’d say I’m bisexual. I don’t really care, you know? Girl, boy, neither. It’s whatever.” He looks over at Tooru. “What about you?”

Tooru hums thoughtfully. “Well, like you said, labels really aren’t that important to me. I guess I would consider myself gay, though. While I love girls—I think they’re all lovely in their own ways—I could never see myself dating one. And all of my previous crushes have been boys, so.” Tooru shrugs. “I guess I’m gay.”

Hajime bites his lips. “Are you, uh. Are you out?”

“Kind of?” Tooru stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets. “My mother knows; I’ve told her. I haven’t told any of my friends explicitly—except for Mattsun and Makki—but since I kissed you in front of my entire team and am now fake dating you, I’m guessing pretty much everyone knows.” He flushes. “Uh… sorry about the whole kissing thing, by the way.” Tooru admits it’s not one of his brighter moments.

“Eh, it’s alright. It wasn’t that bad, actually.”

Tooru sputters. “What?”  
“Don’t get cocky or anything, Stupidkawa,” Hajime says quickly. “It wasn’t  _bad_ , but it wasn’t good, either.”

“Oh?” Tooru grins, lacing his arm around Hajime’s. “So, would you kiss me again?”

It was Hajime’s turn to sputter then, shoving Tooru away. “Don’t push your luck. No kissing, remember.”

Tooru laughs. “I’m just teasing, Iwa-chan! I’d never want to kiss your gross lips, anyway! Your breath probably tastes like stinky tofu all the time!” (Tooru knows this isn’t true.)

Hajime scowls and smacks Tooru lightly on the back of the head. “Don’t be a brat.”

Tooru sticks his tongue out. “So, what about you, then?”

“Huh?”

“Are you out?”

“Oh.” Hajime looks at the ground. “Yeah. I told my grandmother a couple of years ago. She doesn’t really get it, but she tries her best to understand. And I don’t really care what any of my peers think, but at this point they’d be stupid to think that I’m straight.”

“You’re cool.”

Hajime looks momentarily confused. “What?”

Tooru flushes in embarrassment and coughs into his fist. “I mean, that was a cool thing you said. You sounded cool.” At Hajime’s grin, he flushes even more. “Don’t say anything! I mean it! Not a word, Iwa-chan, or I’ll tell everyone—except Makki and Mattsun, whom I have already told—about your Pokémon trading card collection!”

“You better—Wait, what! I told you about that in secret, you asshole!” Hajime reaches to grab Tooru, but he ducks out of the way just in time.

“Don’t hurt me! Makki thought it was adorable that you still keep memorabilia from your childhood—” He squeaks as Hajime reaches for him again, and he immediately bolts toward the direction of his house.

“Get back here, you bastard!” Hajime yells. “Get back here so I can kick your ass!”

“Nooooo! Iwa-chan!”

Tooru considers himself a decent runner, but Hajime has had more experience in sprinting, so it’s not long before he’s caught up to Tooru. Suddenly, there’s a pair of arms around Tooru’s waist, dragging him backwards.

Tooru squeals in laughter as Hajime ruffles his hair, making it an unkempt mess. “Iwa-chan! Nooo please! Mercy, mercy!”

Hajime eventually lets up and releases Tooru. “Serves you right,” he laughs, as Tooru whines about the state his hair is in. “Don’t worry about it. No one else is gonna see it aside from me and your mom anyway, stupid. Besides.” He looks up at Tooru and grins. “I think it looks better that way.”

Tooru pauses in his futile attempt to fix his hair. “Really?”

“Yeah, it makes you look like an unruly sheep.”

“That’s not cute at all!” Tooru pouts.

“Stop your complaining, we’re almost at your house, anyway.”

“Iwa-chan owes me  _two_ cute bentos tomorrow, after what he’s put me through.”

“As if. You’re only getting one.”

“Three!”

“Okay, how about one bento.  _But_  I add in some extra sausages.”

“Deal!”

☆☆☆

It was Tooru’s idea to do a movie night, since Hajime had called him “uncultured” for never seeing any of the older  _Godzilla_  movies. Tooru had called him rude but offered up the idea of Hajime coming over to his house after practice for a movie night. Hajime had agreed, but only if they went to Hajime’s house instead, since Hajime had a personal TV in his room.

So here Tooru is, standing in the genkan of Hajime’s home, toeing off his shoes.

“My grandmother went over to a friend’s house for tea,” Hajime says as they go through the long hallway to his room. “I’m not sure when she will be back, but we should have at least an hour to ourselves.” Hajime pauses outside of his room. “Don’t make fun of my room, got it?”

Tooru snorts, but keeps his mouth shut as Hajime opens the door to his room. There isn’t much in it in terms of furniture: just a futon situated in the corner, a bookshelf that houses the TV and assorted books and sports magazines, a desk, and a dresser. There  _are_  a numerous amount of posters around his room, and all of them are  _Godzilla_ -themed. Tooru can’t help it; a little giggle escapes, and he waves his hands around in apology when Hajime glares at him. “Sorry, sorry! You’re just such a little  _nerd_!” Who would have thought that Iwaizumi Hajime, the rough-exterior baseball player, would have vintage  _Godzilla_  posters situated along his walls?

Hajime points to the door. “Get out of my fucking house.”

Tooru laughs and plops himself down onto the futon. “Too late, Iwa-chan! I’m already here and I’m not leaving until I’m properly  _cultured_ in Iwa-chan’s favorite movie franchise.”

“Oh yeah.” Hajime goes over to his bookshelf, where he comes back with five or so DVDs. “I have the original  _Godzilla_ ,  _Godzilla Raids Again_ ,  _Mothra vs. Godzilla_ ,  _Invasion of Astro-Monster_ , and  _Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster_.” He grins. “We probably won’t get to all of them tonight, but in the future, we can watch them all.” He goes to put the first movie in the DVD player.

Tooru beams. “In the future?”

Hajime pauses. “Well, I mean… If you want, I guess. We can. I don’t know… Do this again, or something.”

Hajime is  _so_ cute.

“Of course, Iwa-chan! I know my presence is a shining beacon in your life, so I wouldn’t want to deprive you of that happiness.”

Hajime snorts and stands up. “Whatever you say, Stupidkawa. I’m gonna go get some snacks from the kitchen. Do you want anything to drink?”

Tooru hums. “Just some water, please!”

Hajime nods and heads downstairs.

After a moment, Tooru feels a buzzing in his pocket and takes out his phone.

**mattsun: so how’s your date going**

Tooru flushes and quickly responds.

**me: not a date but it’s fine**  
**me: iwa-chan’s room is super nerdy**  
**me: lol**

**mattsun: i mean it practically is a date lol**  
**mattsun: you’re at his house…**  
**mattsun: “watching” “movies”**

**me: why did you put those in quotes**  
**me: we’re not doing anything**  
**me: we’re literally here to watch movies and probably die of food consumption**

**mattsun: whatever you say buddy**

**me: this is all pretend anyway don’t you remember**  
**me: me and iwa-chan aren’t dating**  
**me: we agreed the other day that we’re gonna end the relationship after the game with ushiwaka**  
**me: then we can go our separate ways**  
**me: iwa-chan can continue being an angry caveman**  
**me: and i can go back to being the eligible bachelor whom everyone lusts after**  
**me: that’s the nice thing about fake dating you know**  
**me: there’s no attachment haha**

**mattsun: oikawa**

**me: oh look i gotta go iwa-chan is back with some snacks**  
**me: he probably brought crackers or something like the old man he is lololol**  
**me: bye mattsun love u xoxoxo**

Tooru pockets his phone and flops onto his back, covering his face with his hands.

He really is fucked, isn’t he?

“What are you doing.”

Tooru sits up at the same time that Hajime deposits an abundance of snacks onto the futon. Tooru picks up one of the packages and immediately brightens. “Milkbread?”

“Yeah, you said it was your favorite, so I went ahead and bought some. Scoot.” Hajime pushes Tooru a bit to the side so he can comfortably sit on the futon.

Tooru grins. “Iwa-chan bought milkbread for me?”

Hajime flushes. “Oi, don’t get so sentimental, or whatever. I just didn’t want you whining that there aren’t enough sweets in the house.”

Tooru opens up his packet and bites into the bread. “Iwa-chan has old granny taste buds. He doesn’t know what good food tastes like.”

“Hey, shut the fuck up.” Hajime shoves his shoulder playfully. He nods to the TV. “Let’s go ahead and start watching. We should be able to get through two or three movies before you have to leave.”

Tooru resigns to shutting his mouth and leans back against the fluffy pillows on Hajime’s bed. For some reason, he assumed Hajime would be the type to only sleep with one pillow. But Tooru counts at least  _six_  pillows at the moment.

They get through the first movie well enough, with only a few snide comments from Tooru about the old-timey cinematography and the cheap special effects. Tooru eats his way through all of the milkbread Hajime had bought him and begins to munch on some shrimp flavored chips.

Halfway through the second movie, Tooru feels a pressure on his shoulder. He looks down, and is surprised to find Hajime fast asleep, his head resting on Tooru’s shoulder.

Tooru isn’t exactly sure what to do in this situation. Does he wake Hajime up? Does he continue letting him sleep? Tooru’s not in any particular rush to get back home, and Hajime  _did_  mention that he’s been up late studying for a math exam he has coming up soon…

Tooru’s sure a few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt him.

The only problem is now, Tooru is completely distracted from the movie. He keeps looking down at Hajime periodically, completely absorbed in watching the other boy sleep. From up close, Tooru can see how long Hajime’s lashes are. They’re longer than Tooru’s, and fan against Hajime’s cheeks so delicately. Hajime has a very light dusting of freckles running across his nose that compliments his darker skin tone nicely. Hajime’s hair feels soft against Tooru’s cheek; it’s just as soft as Tooru imagined it would be. Tooru has to refrain from reaching up and petting him. Hajime’s lips are thinner than Tooru’s, and they look just a bit chapped.  _Perhaps it’s from the cold weather_ , Tooru muses.  _I wonder if they’re as rough as they look._

Tooru bites his lips, and immediately wills such thoughts away. He can’t start thinking like that. Not in the type of situation he’s in. It’s not fair to himself, and it’s not fair to Hajime.

Of course, it’s really Tooru’s fault in the end, isn’t it?

Tooru’s phone chimes, startling Hajime from his rest.

“Huh? Oh shit.” Hajime rubs at his eyes, and Tooru tries not to coo at how  _adorable_ it is. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to literally fall asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” Tooru croaks. “Actually.” He glances down at his phone, only to see a text from Takahiro.

**makki: mattsun says you’re going thru some gay shit**

“I have to go,” Tooru says, scrambling up.

“What?” Hajime checks his phone. “It’s only, like. Ten. You said you didn’t have to leave until twelve—”

“Ah, well, I just remembered I have  _so_ much homework to do tonight! Sorry, Iwa-chan!” Tooru grins, trying his best to seem chipper. It doesn’t seem to work, what with the way Hajime frowns at him. He starts heading toward the front and slips on his shoes.

“Alright… I guess we can finish the movies later.” Hajime rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, of course! Bye, bye, Iwa-chan!” Tooru opens the door and makes his exit swift, practically running away from the house.

He doesn’t look back.

☆☆☆

**iwa-chan: you’re not mad at me right?**

**me: of course not iwa-chan!  
** **me: there was just so much homework i had to finish, you know?**

**iwa-chan: yeah, okay.  
** **iwa-chan: goodnight oikawa.**

**me: night night iwa-chan!!!!**

☆☆☆

It’s pretty much by accident that Hajime ends up meeting Tooru’s mother.

Meeting the parents isn’t even a part of the contract; they both had agreed that it would be way too messy to get family heavily involved. And Tooru  _knows_ how nosy his mother is; she would pester Tooru to no end if she ever found out about Hajime.

But, as it be, it inevitably happens.

Hajime is dropping Tooru off after practice. It’s been a little over two months since they’ve started fake dating, and the looming threat of the game with Ushijima is slowly creeping toward them. Initially, they had agreed to “break up” a few days after the game, with the excuse that both of them want to focus more on their studies and college entrance exams. It is a solid excuse, one that would warrant no falsely spread rumors. But still, the closer it gets to the game, the more Tooru doesn’t  _want_ to break up with Hajime.

He realizes how ridiculous it is, falling for the person he’s supposed to be fake dating. But Hajime is just so relentlessly  _charming_. He’s kind, and despite how rough he is with Tooru, Tooru can tell he really does care about him. He’s good at almost every sport imaginable, which  _is_  a bit annoying. One time, Tooru had begged Hajime to spike one of his tosses, and the way that Hajime looked suspended in the air—back arched just slightly, eyebrows knitted in concentration—stole Tooru’s breath away. He had bemoaned endlessly about the cruel hand of fate, and how Hajime should have joined the volleyball team instead. Hajime told him to shut up, that he doesn’t have to be on the team for them to play volleyball together. He also doesn’t look like it, but Hajime is quite shy. Since they’ve started fake dating, more people seem to flock to Hajime, attempting to befriend him—possibly to get on Tooru’s good graces. Whenever that happens, Hajime tends to clam up, stuttering and rubbing the back of his head nervously. Tooru saves him most of the time, giving the excuse that Hajime had promised to buy him a canned coffee before classes ended. Hajime is also unfairly  _handsome_. His jawline is sharp, unlike Tooru’s own, which is hidden behind slightly rounded cheeks. Hajime’s eyes are a beautiful hazel, and they shine whenever he smiles at Tooru. The freckles that line Hajime’s face are light, but are visible best in natural light. Tooru wants to count them all with his lips.

 

Tooru doesn’t want to break up with Hajime; in fact, he wants to continue what they have, forever. He wants it to be for real though, and not for some stupid pretend agreement. He wants to take Hajime on cute dates; he wants to go to the beach with him like Hajime had promised. He wants to give Hajime cute gifts for Valentine’s Day and White Day. He wants to be able to hold Hajime whenever he wants; he wants to be able to not be afraid to get physically affectionate with Hajime when they’re alone.  

More than anything, he wants to kiss Hajime. And he wants it to be better than the hurried, unromantic kiss that they shared two months ago. He wants it to be real, he wants it to be  _special._

He wants to tell Hajime how much he actually loves him, and he wants so desperately for Hajime to love him back.

Hajime walks Tooru to his front door, still holding his hand. “Alright, we’re here. Go ahead and go inside now, it’s pretty cold.” He doesn’t let go of Tooru’s hand.

Tooru grins. “You go first, Iwa-chan!” He doesn’t let go of Hajime’s hand.

“No, you go in. Don’t make this difficult, Stupidkawa.” The small smile on Hajime’s face make Tooru’s heart melt, just a bit.

“You go! I insist!”

“No, you.”

“You go!”

“No,  _you_ go!”

“You!”

“No—”

The front door opens, then, revealing Tooru’s mother. She’s standing there with an amused smile on her face, one hand on her hip. “How about both of you come inside, instead of arguing out in the cold like an old married couple, hm?”

Tooru beams. “Hi, Mom!”

All the color from Hajime’s face seems to drain, and he frantically lets go of Tooru’s hand—Tooru tries to not let that small action get to him so much. “Uh, it’s alright. I just. My grandmother’s expecting me soon.”

Tooru’s mother smiles gently. “It’s alright; I didn’t mean to frighten you, dear! At least stay for some tea to warm you up!”

Hajime looks frozen in place. “Um—”

“Iwa-chan’s grandmother is pretty frail, Mom,” Tooru chimes in. “He needs to take care of her.” Hajime nods in agreement, still too shell-shocked to say anything.

“Oh, well alright, then,” Tooru’s mother relents. “But I expect to see you here sometime soon, okay?” She gives a warm smile to Hajime. “Anyone who is dating my son must have immaculate strength and patience. I commend you.”

Hajime muffles a snort into his fist, and Tooru makes a high, whining noise. “Mom! Don’t make me look bad in front of Iwa-chan!”

“Oh, I’m sure…  _Iwa-chan_ is fully aware of how much work you are, Tooru.” His mother smirks like the devil she is.

Hajime coughs, still smiling. “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.” He bows politely.

“Oh, what lovely manners! You really found yourself a good one, didn’t you, Tooru!”

Tooru groans, hiding his face. “ _Mom…_ ”

Hajime coughs. “I need to get home to my grandmother now.” He smiles and bows again. “It was lovely to meet you, Oikawa-san.”

“Lovely to meet you too, Hajime-kun. Please take good care of my son, alright?”

Hajime meets Tooru’s gaze. “I will.”

Tooru bites his lip, trying to hide his grin. He blames the flush on his face on the cold.

Hajime bows a third time, before turning around to leave. “I’ll be going now.”

After Hajime is fully out of sight, Tooru’s mother shuffles Tooru inside and closes the door. As Tooru takes off his shoes, he can feel his mother’s eyes piercing into him. He sighs. “Yes, mother?”

His mother hums. “Oh, nothing. He just seems very nice.”

“He is,” Tooru states a-matter-of-factly.

“How long have you been dating?” And there it is. The start of her interrogation.

“Just about two months.”

“How old is he?”

“Same age, mom. Eighteen, but he’s a month older.” Tooru looks up the stairs, aching to make a quick escape.

“Does he do any clubs, sports, volunteer service?”  
“Baseball—Mom, I have to—”

“What are his plans for after high school?”

“ _Mom_ ,” Tooru whines, exasperated. “I have a lot of homework to do. We can have this interrogation about Iwa-chan later, okay?” He quickly makes his escape, taking the steps two at a time.

“Alright, but I expect Hajime-kun to stay for dinner one night!” his mother yells after him. “No excuses!”

Tooru bounds into his room, shuts the door, and flops onto his bed. He hides his grin in his pillows and kicks his feet up.

God, he’s acting like a smitten teenage girl.

He takes his phone out and sends a quick message to Hajime.

**me: you handled that like a champ iwa-chan**  
**me: good going!!**  
**me: and mom expects you to stay for dinner next time lol**

A few seconds later, he gets a response.

**iwa-chan: honestly i thought i was going to die**  
**iwa-chan: but she’s nice**  
**iwa-chan: nicer than her son at least**

**me: how rude! i am the epitome of a perfect angel!**

**iwa-chan: lmao**

**me: what’s that supposed to mean!**

**iwa-chan: it means that i know you have a pile of homework you should be doing instead of texting me, shittykawa**

**me: you’re so not cute.**

**iwa-chan: yeah yeah**  
**iwa-chan: i’ll talk to you later alright?**  
**iwa-chan: do your homework**

Tooru grabs one of his pillows and hugs it tightly, burying his face in it.

**me: ugh okay**  
**me: talk to you later iwa-chan!!!**  
**me: <3**

☆☆☆

Tooru wakes up the day of the practice match an hour late. He practically falls out of bed when he looks at the time, shrieking when his elbow clips his nightstand on the way down.

If this is an indicator of how his day is going to go, Tooru really is screwed.

He manages to only make Hajime wait ten minutes, which he counts as a semi-success, even if he had to skip his usual morning shower. He’ll be able to shower after practice, so it’s not a big deal. His hair is a bit greasy and sticks to his head more than it usually would, though.

“Are you alright?” is how Hajime greets him when Tooru rushes outside, his cheeks ruddy and pink from running around his room.

“Yes, of course!” Tooru huffs out a harsh breath. “I just woke up later than anticipated. And looking this good takes time, you know.”

Hajime peers at him, not fully convinced, for a few seconds, before he clicks his tongue. “Whatever. Let’s go, or we’re going to be late for practice.” He holds out his hand for Tooru to take.

Tooru hums. “Are you ready for the practice match today, Iwa-chan?” He lightly swings their joined hands back and forth.

“I’m not the one who’s actually going to be playing, stupid.”

Tooru scoffs. “I’m talking about your fake-boyfriend duties, Idiot Iwa-chan! You know, to make sure Ushiwaka doesn’t think that I actually like him.”

Hajime stutters in his walking for a bit but continues on. “Oh, yeah. That.” He shrugs. “I mean, all I have to do is be near you, right? You pretty much have all of the work.”

“I suppose.” Tooru bites his lip. “Iwa-chan…”

“What.”

_Do you actually like fake dating me? When this is all over, are we going to go back to pretending like we don’t know each other? Do you like me as much as I like you? Will you let me kiss you just this once?_

_Please, god, like me back._

“Nothing… let’s hurry up! I don’t want coach to scold me!”

☆☆☆

The day goes on pretty normally; Hajime drops Tooru off at the gym and squeezes his hand gently before letting go, Hajime sends him off to class after practice, they eat lunch with Issei and Takahiro and endure the teasing the two provide them. It’s a pretty normal day, aside from the fact that Tooru feels like he’s two seconds away from throwing up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hajime asks worriedly as they make their way to the gym after classes have ended. “You look like you’re gonna shit yourself.”

“Charming as always, Iwa-chan.” Tooru grimaces.

“You haven’t been overworking yourself, have you? I’ll punch you if you have.”

“Always so violent,” Tooru sighs. “I’m just a bit nervous is all. I don’t want to lose against Ushiwaka’s stupid team!” They find their way into the gym, stopping just in front of the locker room.

“It’s just a practice match, dummy. Besides, you’ll do fine. You always do.” Hajime takes Tooru’s hand and runs his thumb across the back of it.

It’s an intimate gesture, and Tooru’s not exactly sure how to react. So, in a moment of brilliance, he snatches his hand away violently, face bright red.

Hajime stares at him, shocked. Tooru stares back, surprised at his own actions.

Hajime opens his mouth to speak, when they’re interrupted by Issei.

“Look alive, folks! I just saw a bus full of weirdly buff teenage boys near the gym.” He claps Tooru on his back, then looks between him and Hajime. “Did I interrupt something?”

Tooru shakes his head and puts on plastic smile. “Of course not, Mattsun! Let’s go get changed so we can kick some Ushiwaka ass!” He ducks away from Hajime and makes his way into the locker room.

Issei follows close behind him.

They change in relative silence. Tooru’s almost got his sports sneakers tied, when Issei speaks up. “So how are you taking the whole ‘meeting your crush and pretending you’re in a relationship’ thing?” He pulls on his jersey and sits down to put on his shoes.

Tooru makes a face. “Ushiwaka isn’t my crush.”

“I never said he was.”

Tooru pauses and licks his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he chimes innocently.

“Cut the bullshit, Oikawa. You like Iwaizumi.”

Tooru’s breath hitches just a bit, causing him to cough. He wills his racing heart to calm down. “He’s a nice friend, I’ll give him that much—”

“Oikawa.”

“Look, I’m not sure you know what you’re saying, because me and Iwa-chan—”

“ _Tooru_.”

Tooru closes his mouth and purses his lips.

Issei sighs. “You’re so stupid. Honestly. What are you so afraid of?”

“I—” Tooru croaks out. “I don’t know.”

Another sigh, and Issei stands up. “You’d be a fool to think he doesn’t feel the same way. Trust me, Tooru. He’s just as stupid for you.” He walks over to Tooru and pats him on the back. “But enough of that, let’s go kick some ass, right?”

Tooru gives a small, determined smile. “Yeah, alright.”

Once he and Issei are out of the locker room, Tooru heads straight for Hajime, who is awkwardly standing away from the other players, ignoring their curious gazes.

“Doing alright, Iwa-chan?” Tooru tilts his head to meet Hajime’s gaze.

Hajime grimaces and plays with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, but, uh. About earlier—”

Tooru’s saving grace surprisingly comes in the form of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“Oikawa Tooru.”

Tooru stiffens and gives Hajime a  _look_. “Ushiwaka,” Tooru sings sweetly as he turns to meet Ushijima’s gaze.

It’s funny, Tooru thinks. He used to feel a rush of excitement whenever he looked at Ushijima. His heart used to race with adrenaline whenever their gazes would lock, and Ushijima would stare at him like he was looking through Tooru’s entire being. He used to feel  _so much_ around Ushijima, but now. He feels nothing.

Ushijima looks between Hajime and Tooru. “I wanted to talk to you. About the letter you wrote me.”

_Always so blunt_.

Tooru grins sweetly, and grabs onto Hajime’s arm. “Ah, yes. Please disregard everything in that letter. It was a mistake that it even went out to you, and besides, I wrote it quite a long time ago!” Tooru fakes a laugh. “Besides, I’m dating Iwa-chan, now! Say hi to mean old Ushiwaka, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime send Tooru a short glare, but he does bow slightly in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, Tooru’s boyfriend.”

Tooru’s grip tightens on Hajime’s arm at the use of his given name. It makes Tooru feel like he’s flying, like his heart has run marathons inside his chest. It fills him with an unexplainable warmth, and all Tooru wants to do is hold Hajime in his arms and tell him all of the feelings he’s been containing for the past few months.

“Oh.” Ushijima looks at their intertwined arms. “I see.” He doesn’t even regard Hajime with an introduction. He just bows, mutters a “congratulations,” and heads toward the other side of the court.

Tooru finally relaxes, letting out the breath he’d been keeping in. “God, I hate him,” he mutters darkly. “He didn’t even introduce himself to you, what an asshole.” Tooru squeezes Hajime’s arm. “I hate him.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that before,” Hajime teases. He nods toward the court. “You should probably get going; your team needs you.” He unravels their arms and smiles. “I’ll be rooting for you, so don’t lose, alright.”

Tooru winks. “Wouldn’t even dream of it, Iwa-chan.”

☆☆☆

They lose.

It’s a tightly knit game, but they still lose. It’s not as crushing as it would be if it were an official match, but it still leaves Tooru with the lingering feeling of doubt and self-hatred. It hovers over him like a dark cloud, and all Tooru wants to do is push himself to get better. He wants to practice. He  _has_ to practice. He has to get better, or else he will never surpass Ushijima. He’ll never get to nationals. He’ll never been good enough.

Tooru slams his locker shut. He’s the last one out, as everyone else had gone home. He strides out of the gym angrily, not even noticing Hajime waiting for him outside.

“You did good,” is what startles him out of his trance.

Tooru looks over to see Hajime leaning against the building. He scoffs. “Yeah, right. We lost.”

“You still did amazing, though.” Hajime pushes himself off and strides over to Tooru. “You did the best you could, and that’s all that matters.” He gives a sweet smile. “You’ll get them next time.”

Usually, Tooru would get wrapped up in the way Hajime’s nose scrunches up when he grins, or the way his gums peak out from behind his lips. But, in that moment, Tooru is  _livid_. “So basically, you’re saying that my best isn’t good enough.”

Hajime blinks widely. “What? That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying that doing your best and knowing that you did, is all that matters. Winning doesn’t matter if you don’t put your all into it.”

Tooru  _knows_ that’s what Hajime means. And he knows Hajime means well.

But he’s just so angry. So incredibly angry. And now, he’s putting all of this misplaced anger onto Hajime.

“I don’t  _care_ about doing my best. I want to  _win_.” Tooru’s grip tightens around his school bag. “What’s even the point of playing if I can’t even win a fucking practice match?”

“Tooru…”

“Ushiwaka is  _always_ going to be better than me, no matter how hard I try.”

“Hey, that’s not true—”

“Why do you even care anyway, Iwa-chan? You’re acting like a  _such_ supportive boyfriend.” Tooru sneers. “You know we’re not actually dating, right?” he spits.

Hajime freezes.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Tooru immediately regrets them. He swallows thickly and licks at his lips and attempts to backtrack. “I mean…”

Hajime huffs and shakes his head. “No, you know what? You’re right.” He looks up at Tooru, and there’s not a hint of sympathy or pity or  _anything_ in Hajime’s gaze. “We’re not dating. You’re right. It was my mistake for caring about you.” Tooru’s heart drops to his stomach. “So, I guess we can go on and pretend like we don’t know each other, then.”

“Iwa-chan, I…” Tooru starts to take a step forward, but Hajime interrupts.

“I’ll go ahead save you the trouble. Whatever  _this_  is,” Hajime gestures between the two of them. “Is done. We can go back to whatever we had before.” He starts walking away. “Goodbye, Oikawa.” Then he’s gone.

Tooru stands there for a while, just staring at the space where Hajime was. An immediate feeling of sadness and anger washes over him like a tidal wave, and Tooru wants to chase after Hajime, tell him that he didn’t mean what he said, that he loves him so,  _so_ much; so much, that sometimes he feels like he’s floating on air when he’s near Hajime. He wants to tell him that every moment he spent with Hajime in the past few months have been the best moments of his life.

He wants to tell Hajime  _so_ much, but he just stands there.

He doesn’t allow himself to cry, and for the first time in months, Tooru walks home alone.

☆☆☆

**mattsun: tooru**  
**mattsun: i know you’re there**  
**mattsun: iwaizumi told me and hiro you guys split up**  
**mattsun: what happened**  
**mattsun: tooru**

**mattsun: you can’t just hide and cry about your problems, idiot**  
**mattsun: if you messed up, fucking pull your shit together and fix it**  
**mattsun: or else you might come to regret it in the end**

☆☆☆

“When’s Hajime-kun coming over for dinner?” his mom asks as she stirs the pot of curry she’s making. “I want to know more about him, he’s such a lovely boy.”

Tooru swallows thickly and concentrates on cutting onions. “You know, Mom, I’m not sure if Iwa-chan is going to want to come over for a while now.”

His mother hums. “Why is that?”

Tooru licks his lips, and the tears that didn’t appear the other day are suddenly released, like an unwanted rainstorm. At the first sound of Tooru’s sobbing, his mother turns off the stove and takes him into her arms.

“You always have been an emotional one, haven’t you?” she sighs softly. “My sweet Tooru.”

They stay like that for a while, Tooru bent down, nose pressed against his mother’s shoulder. She’s always been shorter than him; she says that he gets his height from his father. Like this, however, he feels so small, so pathetic, crying to his mother about his problems.

He doesn’t explain much of the situation, not wanting his mother to scold him for lying to her.

His mother is silent for a while. “I’ve never seen you so heartbroken, Tooru. You must really care about Hajime-kun.”

Tooru nods and wipes at his nose with his sleeve. “I care about him more than I thought was capable.”

“You must love him, then.”

He bites his lip and nods again.

His mother sighs and cups his cheeks with her hands, forcing him to look down at her. “You know, Tooru, you’ve never been one to back down from a fight. And if you really do love this boy, you should tell him.” She gently taps his cheek with her pointer finger. “Something tells me that this isn’t the end for you and Hajime-kun.”

Tooru sniffs. “Really?”

She leans up and kisses Tooru on the cheek. “I haven’t known Hajime-kun for long, but when I saw him looking at you that night, I could tell he adores you. He looked at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky.”

Tooru chokes on a laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

She hums and strokes Tooru’s hair back from his forehead. “As are you, my sweet boy. Now.” She lets go of Tooru. “Help me finish cutting these onions,  _then_ you can deal with your teenage drama.”

☆☆☆

Tooru doesn’t think he’s been this nervous since that one time he tried climbing a tree for the first time. He was six, and his older sister had teased him for not being able to climb the large tree in their backyard. He had climbed up branch by branch, shaking from the pure terror of not knowing if he was going to fall. But he was a determined child, not stopping until he reached the tallest branch he could. He remembers looking for just a second, at the sunset that peaked over the top of the tree. He remembers being in awe for just that one moment, until he had let himself slip and fall, dropping nearly fifteen feet. He had broken his arm in two different places, crying all the way to the emergency room.

Tooru would rather be in that situation at the moment. Breaking his arm would be less painful than what is inevitably about to happen.

He knocks on the door to the Iwaizumi residence, shaking and palms sweating. It’s practically freezing outside, but Tooru’s determined to fix what he had broken. Like climbing a tree, he has to face his problems.

It feels like eternity until the door opens, and there stands Hajime. He’s got a baggy sweatshirt and jeans on, and he looks momentarily shocked, before his face closes off completely. “What.”

“I.” Tooru sniffs. “I’m not very good at—” Shit, he was stumbling already. He shakily reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ripped and folded piece of paper. He hands it over to Hajime. “I wrote you a letter.”

Hajime looks down at the paper in his hands. He opens it slowly. There’s a sharp intake of breath from when he fully processes what exactly the note says. He looks up at Tooru quickly, eyes wide.

“It’s not pretend,” Tooru whispers. “It may have been, in the beginning. But somewhere along the way… I don’t know. It became real to me.  _You’re_ real to me.” He rubs the back of his head. “I’ve never been good at apologizing to people, it’s one of my faults I think, but—”

“Do you mean it?” Hajime interrupts.

“Huh?”

“Do you mean what you wrote? Because if you do, I’m not playing around. I’m done with playing pretend. So, Oikawa Tooru, do you mean it.” Hajime’s got a hard, determined look in his eyes. It makes Tooru want to kiss him.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Tooru’s face blooms into a warm smile. “I’ve always meant it.”

Then, there are cheeks cradling his face, and warm and chapped lips pressed to his. There’s a moment of clumsy hesitation, but then Tooru melts into Hajime’s embrace, circling his arms around his neck. It’s not perfect; first  _real_ kisses never are, but Hajime’s lips feel just right slotted against Tooru’s, and Hajime’s hands frame Tooru’s face just perfectly. Hajime’s thumb traces windshield wiper motions across his cheek, and Tooru thinks that this is probably what being in love feels like: perfect balance, perfect harmony.

When they part, Tooru looks down at Hajime with a dazed expression. “So, does this mean that you like me too?”

Hajime looks at him, bewildered for a moment, before snorting into his shoulder. He starts laughing uncontrollably.

Tooru pushes him away. “Iwa-chan! How could you!”

“I’m sorry!” Hajime laughs. “It’s just—” He cuts himself off.

“Iwa-chaaaan,” Tooru whines, hiding his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

Hajime coughs out one more chuckle. “Okay, okay. Yeah. Sorry.” He pulls Tooru’s hands away from his face and leans in. “Of course I like you too, stupid. I’ve liked you for a while now. For some crazy, unknown reason, I really, really like you.”

Tooru gives him a watery smile. “So, does this mean that we can date, for real now?”

Hajime hums. “I suppose.” He laughs when Tooru tries to shove him away.

“You are! The absolute  _worst_ boyfriend  _ever_!” Tooru struggles, but Hajime wraps his arms tightly around his waist. “See if I ever kiss you again, you  _menace_. You demon!” He wiggles around some more, much to Hajime’s amusement.

“So, we  _are_ boyfriends, then?” Hajime grins.

Tooru freezes. “I mean… only if you want…” he mutters, face getting redder than it already is.

Hajime smiles and leans in to kiss him, and Tooru’s swears his heart has never felt so full.

☆☆☆

**kuroo-chan: i just got your letter**

**kuroo-chan: look im uh really flattered but im dating someone at the moment**  
**kuroo-chan: and i really like them, maybe even love them**  
**kuroo-chan: don’t take this too hard alright, oikawa**  
**kuroo-chan: there’s gonna be someone out there for you**  
**kuroo-chan: just don’t give up, alright?**

**kuroo-chan: :)**

☆☆☆


End file.
